The World Shall Fall
by Shadow's whisper28
Summary: CHARACTER DEATH! The Brawlers are in a battle, and Pit is blasted away. This isn't a regular Brawl, and Pit finds himself in an alley. What exactly is this battle for, and what will happen to Pit? Yeah, summary sucks. Now Complete!
1. the fallen angel

This is my first attempt at horror. I will probably completely mess Tabuu up due to the fact that I have never seen anything with him in it. I just needed someone really evil. Hopefully I didn't mess up the 'horror' part too much…

Disclaimer: I don't own Nintendo.

The winged boy lay, leaning against the wall of the ally, covered in blood. Most of it was his own, but some of it was from the battle he'd just fought. The angel groaned, trying to get up. His friends were still fighting that war, and Pit had been blasted away. He had to go back…and help…

Almost everyone who walked by Pit glared at him like he was disturbing them, walking by and not bothering to help the poor angel. Pit struggled to move. One of his wings was bent at a funny angle, and his pale arms were completely bathed in blood.

The shop next to the alley Pit was lying in was losing business because of the injured angel. The manager sent his son out to move the angel.

"Are you okay?" Pit could only groan. His head lolled uselessly on his shoulder, and his breathing was shallow and fast. The boy, who couldn't have been more than eight, went back into the shop, calling nine one one on the store phone. The paramedics were at the scene in minutes.

There were only three of them, and one of them only drove the ambulance. The shop manager's son was sitting at Pit's side, trying to get him to speak. One Paramedic jumped out and began checking to see if the angel was breathing. The other stood nearby.

"That's funny, he looks like one of Master Hand's. What's he doing all the way out here?"

"I don't know, but we'll take him to the hospital downtown while we contact Master Hand, 'cause this kid ain't gonna live to much longer if we leave him here." Both Paramedics got on their knees and began trying to get a response out of Pit.

"Hey, kid, can you hear me?"

"We need you to stay awake. Come on, don't fall asleep."

Pit could hear them, and tried to oblige. But he was so tired, and everything was fading. The angel closed his eyes. The voices of the paramedics were slowly becoming garbled and far-off like a badly tuned radio. _My friends! I have to go back…and help them fight…if they lose, it'll be my fault…because I wasn't there…stay strong….. for them…._ The angel blacked out.

**So what did you think of my first horror chapter? Good? Meh? R&R, no flames. Constructive criticism welcome. **


	2. the battle

Chapter Two! In this chapter, we find out exactly why Pit needed to go back and fight.

Disclaimer: I don't own Nintendo.

_It had started out like a normal day. Breakfast, Brawls, free time, lunch, Brawls. After the afternoon Brawls had finished, though, the disaster happened. _

_ The front door had been completely blown off of its hinges, and a masked man was standing in the doorway. He laughed and called, "This is the end for you, Hand! Once I finish off you and your precious Brawlers, the rest of the world is next!"_

_ Tabuu unleashed his army of multiple enemies the Brawlers had fought. Within seconds, every Brawler and assist trophy was fighting. _

_ "Bring the fight outside!" Master Hand had called. Every Brawler trusted the hand completely, and did as he said. They formed a ring around the mansion, preventing the army from going inside. The damage was real, though, and everyone was soon laced with numerous cuts and bruises. They kept fighting, though. As far as Pit knew, he was the first one to go. The reapette slashed both blades down at once, pinning the angel to the ground. He'd cried out in pain, but before anyone could cover him, he was completely covered in the monsters. The angel had almost given up when he found himself being lifted up on a large pink mat. Pit found it getting harder and harder to breathe. The pink mat was trying to carry him into space. In a last effort, the angel rolled off of the flying carpet and allowed himself to fall._

_ He tried to glide down, but Pit was so tired he couldn't hold himself up. On the way down, he clipped his wing on a building and tumbled the rest of the three stories down to the pavement. _

_ Pit remembered this part. What he didn't remember was feeling fine a few seconds later. The angel looked around, and before he could do anything, the dream changed._

_ He was back at the mansion, but something was different. There was no sound. It was like a desert wasteland. Everything was cold and foreboding, not like the regular, welcoming mansion Pit knew. He walked through the trashed building. There were burns and slash marks in the walls, and everything was broken. Then the angel came to the entrance hall. The door was nowhere to be seen. He walked outside. There had obviously been a fight, but it was impossible to tell who the victor was. Blood was everywhere; scorch marks stretched across the grass. Pit knew this was the fight he'd been fighting. He looked for any sign of life, any sign of his friends. _

_ A quiet laugh began behind Pit. The angel turned and saw Tabuu looking at him as he laughed louder and louder. Pit stared in horror as Tabuu flung his head back and sent his mocking laugh to the heavens. _

_ "Where are they? What have you done with my friends?" Pit asked, desperately seizing Tabuu's arms and shaking them. As soon as the angel made contact with the man, Pit's hands began to burn._

_ "Where are they? What have you done with them?" Pit kept screaming, his palms burning. Everything began to blur, the only solid objects were Pit and Tabuu, who was still laughing. "Where are they? What have you done with them?" _

Everything dissolved, and Pit woke up.

The angel immediately wished he hadn't woken up, because with the consciousness came the pain. Pit was breathing heavily, and there was a beeping sound beside him. He looked over at the heart monitor, which was resounding in a pattern too fast to be normal.

"Hey, kid, calm down. Don't want you to have a heart attack, especially in your condition." A nurse beside Pit's bed chided. The angel looked at his body. He did look pretty bad. His wing was splinted where he'd hit it; his hands were wrapped where he'd hit the ground, his arms bandaged where the reapette had pinned him down. Pit's toga was tattered and bloodstained all over, his practically bare chest blue and yellow with bruises. The angel tried to talk, but his voice was hoarse and he could barely manage a whisper. The nurse decided now was a good time to talk.

"You're from smash mansion, right?" Pit nodded.

"Well, we haven't been able to get a hold of Master Hand. Do you have any idea why?" The angel's eyes went huge; his pupils shrank to the size of breadcrumbs. Pit opened and closed his mouth, trying to talk. He shook his head slowly back and forth, trying to deny the inevitable. Tabuu couldn't have taken all of them, could he?

Pit had to see for himself. He ripped the IV out of his arm, pulled the heart monitor off, too. The beeping turned flat. The nurse tried to stop him, but the angel pulled free of her grasp and ran out of the room. He caught the first elevator he saw and went to the first floor. And then he ran.

Pit may have been a good athlete, but in his current condition he couldn't outrun to many people. A couple of doctors stopped him in seconds.

"No…I have to see…they have to be alright…" The angel reverted to muttering to himself again.

"Who's alright? What happened to you?" The angel shook his head.

"I have to see…by myself." Pit pulled away and continued running.

**As many people have said, the story isn't very scary. I guess it isn't. It's just…sad. It will get scarier…maybe… R&R, no flames.**


	3. Ghost Mansion

And here's the much-anticipated chapter three. Thanks for all of the reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own Nintendo.

Every step pounded in Pit's head like a drumbeat, steady and unfaltering. His body begged him to stop, but his mind wouldn't allow it. He had to know. His dream couldn't be real, could it? Or was it more than a dream? The questions would not cease.

He could hear the doctors trying to catch up with him, but the angel wasn't about to stop. He wished he could fly, but the wing was still splinted, and even if it wasn't, Pit wasn't sure if it could handle flight.

Almost there. Almost there. He had to keep telling himself this. He couldn't stop. He couldn't slow down. His marathon was for them. They weren't lost, were they? No, they were the Brawlers. Resilient. Skilled. Not easily cut down. The size of that army, though…what were the odds, thirty-five, not including the two hands, to one thousand? One million? They had to be there.

He ran around the bend, and there was the mansion. The angel stopped, breathing laboriously, staring at the building. It was cold, and desolate. Several windows were broken, the interior obviously trashed. The front lawn was flattened, dead, burned, and covered with blood. Several craters were created where bombs had gone off. The front doors were gone. Just like in his dream. Something glinted in the sunlight. Pit found his majestic bow, covered in blood and trampled, but still intact. He picked it up and kept walking.

_They've just retreated inside, they're healing themselves_. Pit kept telling himself. He no longer believed his mind. The threshold was blackened and unstable. As he walked down the hall, the wind seemed to whisper his name in the silence, every step echoing throughout the building. Where would they be? The conference room, probably. It was the safest.

The more the angel walked, the more doubtful he became. Everything was broken, the walls pounded in, contents from closets spilled all over the floor. Pit was shaking. This was his home…and now…he didn't know what it was. Would he find friends here, or enemies? Or maybe no one at all. The angel switched his bow from one hand to the other. His arms were sore. He doubted he would last long in a fight, if it came to that.

Some of the ceiling fell a few feet in front of Pit. He stepped over it and went to the door of the conference room. He held the door handle for a few seconds and listened. There was laughter. Cruel, evil, mocking laughter. The angel couldn't take it any more. He twisted the knob and pulled the door open…

And came face to face with an army. An army that included his friends.

**I'm trying to end every chapter with a cliffhanger. Tell me how I did with it! I decided to make the story a little gorier than I'd originally planned. Not to mention I've been feeling evil lately. Helps me with the story, though. Lots of character death next chapter. Or dead. Whatever. R&R, no flames.**


	4. Tabuu takes it all

What is this, chapter four? I don't know. Thanks for all of the reviews! There is major character death/dead in this chapter. Just so you know.

Disclaimer: I don't own Nintendo.

Tabuu's army was huge. They filled the conference room, spilling out the back door. Pit wondered why he hadn't run into any of them in his search. At the conference table, Tabuu stood. He was at the head of the table, with Master and Crazy Hand occupying the flanking chairs. The rest of the table was composed of all of the Brawlers except for one. One chair stood empty.

Pit surveyed his friends. They all sat limply, like dolls placed around a kids table for 'tea'. The questions came back. Were they alive? Were they dead? They looked fine. The various cuts and bruises that had riddled their bodies were gone. What had Tabuu done? Nanobots? Controlling their minds? Or was he like the hand that occupied the puppet, simply controlling the bodies? The questions kept coming.

"Ah, how kind of you to visit, Pit. Care to join? Or should I even ask, considering you don't have a choice." Tabuu pointed as Pit, and Marth got up from his chair. His movements were jerky and robotic. The door closed behind Pit and the various members of Tabuu's army formed a ring around the two Brawlers. Marth drew his sword.

Tabuu smirked beneath his mask. "Fight!"

Marth immediately began swinging the sword, forcing Pit to take defense, blocking every blow with his twin daggers. After a few minutes, Pit began to recover and switch to offence, blocking and striking. This wasn't Marth's usual fighting style. Usually he wouldn't give his opponent the chance to recover after a blow, striking continuously until they tired. The sparring match went on, Pit's head still swimming with questions.

Pit wasn't sure how he landed a hit, but he did, right below Marth's ribcage. A huge gash opened up, and flesh and blood poured out.

Rotten flesh and blood. Marth was dead. The gash closed, and Marth faced the angel again.

Tabuu seemed slightly irritated. "You know to much now. Destroy him!" Everyone at the table, minus Tabuu, rose and charged.

It was the fight of the angel's life. He tried to land a blow on each of them, to make sure they were all really dead.

Everyone was.

The zombie Brawlers and Tabuu's army closed in on Pit. The angel knew that he wouldn't last long. Should he try to escape, or should he give in to the inevitable? Giving in seemed easier. But the world was at stake. He might be able to save it, or he at least had to try, right? Pit began fighting his way through the crowd, wishing he could fly over instead. Eventually he made it to the door and shoved it open. Pit slipped out, dodging the pieces of drywall that fell. Tabuu rousing his army must have made the building shaky.

The conference doors were blasted off of their hinges, and Sonic burst out of the doors, followed by everyone else. Pit twisted and shot the hedgehog four times, and dashed out of the mansion.

The doctors that had chased after the angel were standing outside of smash mansion. One of them managed to get their hands on the sprinting angel, injecting him with sleeping meds. Pit was knocked out instantly. They placed the angel in the car they'd brought, and took off, leaving Tabuu standing disapprovingly on Smash Mansion's lawn.

"Run all you want." Tabuu whispered. "It won't make a difference. In the end, the world shall fall to its knees before me. The world shall fall."

**So we see an appearance of the title. It'll come back. Yes, I'm sorry, but everyone is dead, except for Pit. This took longer than I thought it would. Sorry! R&R, no flames.**


	5. Waking Hoplessness

WHAT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE? It's been a week! Where have I been? I'm sorry, I had several crises over the long weekend, including my Ipod crashing. Hopefully I'll update sooner next time. Thanks to all of my reviewers who waited to patiently for this!

Disclaimer: I don't own Nintendo.

When Pit awoke, he was in a van. Hushed voices spoke, and it was really warm, the kind of warm that occurs when you keep several bodies in one small space. The angel tried to sit up, only to have a gentle hand push him back down.

"So you're up?" The gentle whisper of the nurse's voice was barely audible over the rumbling of the van and the other hushed voices.

"What happened?" Pit asked.

The nurse seemed reluctant to talk. "Well, um, the Brawlers have turned against the world. They've killed and taken over almost every country, adding people to their numbers with each kill. I don't suppose you know why this is happening?"

The angel closed his eyes and turned his head so his eyes were cloaked in shadow. "They…aren't themselves. Tabuu has killed the Brawlers."

"They don't seem dead. They managed to kill everyone in Hong Kong, and you say they're dead. Who is this Tabuu, anyway?"

Pit tried to keep the desperation out of his voice. "I don't know everything. Tabuu has always been our enemy, and when I last saw my friends alive, they were fighting him and his army. I can definitely say that all of the Brawlers are dead. I know that much."

"But why? Why would Tabuu do this? How can thirty-six people be dead and manage to massacre half of the world?"

Pit ignored her questions, instead asking one of his own. "Half the world? How long have I been out?"

The nurse wrung her hands together, debating whether or not to tell the angel. "Um…about a week. This is the third time we've had to change locations to keep everybody safe. We kept you asleep so you could recover. We were sort of thinking…maybe you could save us?"

"I can't"

"Why?"

"If I was fighting alongside the Brawlers, maybe things would be different. I can't win in a fight against all of them at once, and even if I could, what then? Master Hand is the only way I can get back home, and he's dead. My friends are dead, the Mansion is destroyed. Heroes are only remembered for so long. It's the villains that are remembered. Sure, I'll be the news for a month. Then everyone will forget. I have wings. I won't fit in the crowd. What am I supposed to do then? It would be much easier to just die now."

The van stopped before the nurse could lecture Pit on suicidal thoughts. The van had been overcrowded, with three nurses, one driver, a doctor riding shotgun, and five patients. The angel was given his bow, and everyone who was able to exited the van. Pit flexed his wings, stretching them after a week of no use. They were in some kind of desert, just a large yellowish orange expanse of dust. The city was busy, but the dry climate was almost unbearable. Everyone moved around anxiously, hurrying to get into the building. A boy walked up. Pit recognized him as the shop owner's son.

"See over there?" He asked, pointing to the horizon, where there were several figures distinguishable, just tiny dots observing the city. "That's them. The Brawlers. They killed my dad. Can you save us, angel boy?"

Pit looked at the boy, keeping his features expressionless. "What's your name?"

"Connor."

"I don't know, Connor. I wish I could help you. Have you ever fought your friends, I mean really fought, not a play fight or a simulation?"

"No."

"It's hard. Those are my friends. They're dead, but it's still hard for me to fight them knowing I have to cut them down."

"Can you try? For me?"

The angel couldn't keep the hopelessness out of his eyes as he turned and said, "I can't guarantee anything. But I'll try for you."

"He is failing. He will be ours soon." Tabuu spoke to the Brawlers, even though they were someplace where they could never hear him. "A few more days, at most. He is broken physically and emotionally. Once we break him mentally, he's going to beg to join us."

**Thanks to all of my reviewers again, you always make my day. Please review, don't flame. **


	6. Dangerous Thoughts

I am not dead! It's taken me way to long to get this chapter up. Writer's block, school, tennis. All of it extremely time consuming. This chapter is longer than normal, and probably the worst. So much random thinking. And an OC. I hate it when people put them in stories and center their stories around it. Just think of Conner as a primid or something.

Disclaimer: I don't own Nintendo.

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Why did his life have to be so hard?It was bad enough the Brawlers were dead, why did Tabuu have to shove it in his face? At first the signs were more subtle, just a killing here and there, but slowly they became more obvious, where fresh blood would spell: _You will join us._ Pit didn't want to join, but he didn't know how much longer he could hold out. He was always tired, and he really had no desire to live. The only thing that kept him going was Conner. The boy was in the same situation as him, everybody he knew dead, and nowhere to go. But he stayed happy, believing the angel could win. How did he go on? Pit wished he knew.

What was even worse was that Tabuu was mistreating the Brawlers' bodies. Sure, they were bodies, but they were also important icons. Important icons that had mass-murdered half the world in a week. And how had that happened? Pit's guess was that one Brawler was enough to take out a city, and Tabuu had spread out his army. Not to mention that with each kill, the army grew. Of course, it helped that zombies couldn't die.

It was too much to think about. Pit closed his eyes trying to clear his mind. It really was no use anymore. His mind remained a jumbled mess. It was enough to drive one insane. Was he insane? The angel couldn't tell. Was insanity really this painful? Wasn't insanity laughing at nothing, expecting what wasn't to come? Believing in the unbelievable?

Pit sat down on a bed. His bed? Perhaps. Time no longer meant anything. It was simply a way of measuring how long the torture would last. The torture of living. But what had happened? Everything had blurred together. People died. That was becoming so horribly, painfully regular. Pit didn't want irregularity. He wanted things to go back to the way they had been. Before Tabuu. Before, when the problems in life were so much smaller. Before the battle where everyone had died.

Almost everyone. They had died and left him so terribly, horribly alone. He should have died. Pit was supposed to have died, cut down with his friends. He knew that now. But maybe it wasn't too late to let fate run its course.

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Conner stared out the window of the apartment. So much had changed. His parents were dead. Their home was destroyed. His only hope was the white angel that had fallen back home, so long ago. But Conner was beginning to lose faith in the angel. Maybe that angel had fallen, fallen long ago, defeated and broken. He knew that the winged boy had promised to help him, but what could he do? He'd seemed so defeated.

Two months had passed since the angel had promised Conner to save them. Two months of running, hiding, retreating, and fighting. But what good was it? They might as well have fought a wall. The remaining living had managed to keep one city, out in the desert. It was the worst possible city to be in. It was dry, it was windy, and birds were constantly circling overhead, waiting for death. The sky was cloudy, but it never rained.

Conner's mind kept drifting back to the angel. He'd seemed so indifferent the whole time, like he didn't know what was happening. The angel had just done what he was told, like a puppet.

Conner sighed, and walked slowly to the window of his room and looked out. The city had managed to find the remaining survivors hotel rooms to stay in. The boy figured they were just treating themselves before they died. It was inevitable, anyway. Why deny it?

Conner, lost in his thoughts, hadn't actually been looking at what his eyes were aimed at. Until a dark mass appeared on the horizon. A woman burst into the room, and Conner stiffened.

"They're coming" The woman said. She seemed frantic, her blond curls flying into her face. Conner sighed, but remained calm.

"Again?" He groaned. "You know they're just toying with us."

The woman ignored him.

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Pit could see them coming through his window. They marched, a picture of perfection. Oh well. It was all a show. They'd come several times, picked off a few people, and left without doing any major damage. Keeping the prey on it's toes. Although, who knew? Maybe this time they'd put them all out of their misery. That sounded good right now. No more worries, no more confusion, no more hurt.

That got the angel wondering. Why did they fight? Why did they fight if it would get rid of all of the things they hated? This life was horrible. Who would want this? Certainly not him. The angel opened the door out of the room, bow held loosely at his fingertips. A woman was running by, her head of blond curls flying everywhere. The angel stopped her.

"Give this to Connor." The woman looked bewildered, staring after the angel as he walked away – without his bow.

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**Hopefully, this new line will work, because apparently, my other one hasn't. Again, sorry about the delay, Conner, and the terrible excuse for a cliffhanger. For everybody who reviews, you make my day. Read and Review, no flames! {at least, try.} **


	7. Hopeless

So, I beat Tabuu yesterday, and he doesn't look anything like what I thought. I was modeling him off of Victor from _Fantastic four._ The insane Victor with the metal mask and green cloak-thing. And because I am extremely lazy (And still beating Pokemon black) I'm not going to go back and change it. I'm also going to continue with Victor-Tabuu for consistency. And I'm rambling. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Nintendo.

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The middle of desert city was dusty, dry, and hot. People coughed, but stayed in tight huddles, as though there was safety in numbers. Conner thought it was the other way around. Danger in numbers.

The irritating woman with blond curls, whom Conner had been trying to avoid, ran up to him.

"Someone said to give this to you." She stated, shoving a gleaming, blue and gold bow into the boy's hand. "Honestly, you have to stay somewhere I can _see_ you…" The woman rambled on, but Conner didn't listen. He stared at the bow, looking at his shocked reflection on the perfectly polished metal.

"It doesn't matter any more." His voice sounded strangely calm. The woman shut up. "Nothing matters any more. We're doomed."

"Don't talk like that." The woman snapped. She proceeded to continue her lecture.

"We're all doomed." Conner whispered to himself.

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Pit had not bothered with going down, but instead went to the roof of the building. It looked like a hotel from here. Maybe it was. Wind ruffled his feathers slightly. It was a pleasant feeling, like he hadn't felt in a long time.

The looming dark mass that had appeared on the horizon had gotten larger. The angel could just make out the outlines of humanoid figures on the horizon. The shells of his friends.

Steeling himself, Pit shook his limp, unkempt hair from his face and jumped off of the building.

He wavered in midair. Weeks - no, months without flying had made his wings weak. Steadying his body, the angel glided off for the undead army.

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Conner was frantically searching the hotel for the angel. He had to stop the winged man before it was too late.

Conner raced into an elevator, going as far up as he could go. If you had wings, you'd leave from there, wouldn't you? He had to stop him. Conner had to stop the angel, even though he didn't know the angel's name. He didn't know anything about the angel, now that he thought about it.

What was he stopping the winged boy for? For himself, or for the boy? The angel _had _seemed empty. It was like he'd just watched the world go by, not even realizing it. Conner's parents had always told him not to be selfish. Was he being selfish in trying to prevent the angel from being free?

The elevator door opened, revealing the roof. It had a nice breeze, better than the still, stifling air of the town square. Conner ignored it. He had to figure out what he was stopping the angel for. The people who were left? They were hopeless. But he had to try, right? Keep them as safe as possible? They were already terrified as it was.

Conner dove, making it out of the doors just before they closed. Just in time to see a figure in the sky drifting away.

"Wait! Stop!" Conner called out. The figure stopped and turned in midair. And glided slowly back. Conner realized he was shaking with relief. The boy touched down lightly next to him.

The angel had clearly given up. He was thin, his hair was limp and matted, and his wings were an unpleasant gray. Worst of all, his cerulean blue eyes were dull and glassy. Defeated.

The boy's voice was husky with disuse, and a dull monotone. "It's too late for me. But it might not be for you." The eyes blinked once, still lifeless.

"Who are you kidding? It's too late for everyone." Conner was shocked by the spite in his voice.

The angel gave a halfhearted smile. "I guess we both knew that. What did you want?"

Conner thought for a moment. "I – I just wanted to know your name. Before we died."

The angel remained completely emotionless, as though reciting a practiced line. "I'm Pit. Pit Icarus."

Conner watched Pit as he glided off again. "See you." He whispered.

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**I got this one up quick! And Conner the primid is still alive! He's irritating me, so vote on how to kill him! Also, my lines are working! At least, I think. Read and review, no flames!**


	8. Free at last

THERE WAS AN ERROR MESSAGE AND I COULDN'T UPDATE FOR FOUR WEEKS! But that's gone now. Also, I've been wondering… what kind of messed up perspective is this story in?{Yes, home is supposed to be capitalized}

Disclaimer: I don't own Nintendo.

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Pit was glad he'd stopped and gone back to the roof. That had been the one thing bothering him. He was free now. Free to go Home. Going home knowing Conner would be free, too. Accepting fate.

As for Tabuu, why was he needed to protect the world if everyone was dead?

He was almost there. He could make out the shells of Ike, Marth, and Link standing on the front line. The whole army had stopped to watch the angel as he began to descend in front of them.

The angel touched down lightly, but only out of practice. His wings were shaking, making the whole thin, hallowed frame quiver with exhaustion. His dull, lifeless eyes swept the army in front of him. It was much more intimidating to be directly in front of them instead of far away, at that hotel room.

Tabuu stepped forward. "Come to join at last, have you?" The silver mask forced the angel to only assume that Tabuu was speaking.

"I would never join you." Pit was mildly surprised his voice wasn't shaking as well. Instead, it was the same, the dull, flat, dead monotone. "You're just the only one who can free me."

Pit could imagine the sneer on the man's face. "Fool! You will never be free! Your body will belong to me!"

"I don't care about my body."

"Obviously." Tabuu drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The angel had had enough. "Free me." He made his voice a little louder, throwing his head back slightly. Pit wasn't sure if this was an act of defiance, or just exposing his throat. Quick and painless, right?

A small laugh escaped the metal mask. "You amuse me. I think I'll kill your friends first!"

A huge battalion of bodies stomped around the angel, heading for the city. It was Pit's turn to laugh. "You think I care?"

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Conner sighed as the army continued to advance. He was back at the town square, with the rest of the 'survivors'. Were they really survivors, or simply the ones who had to suffer the most? Both, probably.

Conner gripped Pit's bow in his right hand. If he was going to go down, he was going to do it on his own terms. That didn't do anything to help his nervousness, though. The thought had been creeping slowly through his brain, weakening his resolve. It would be easier to just die than suffer, though, right? Besides, did a heroic death really matter to you if you died?

The approaching army was now less than a half-mile away. Could he do this?

A quarter-mile. Should he? Did he want honor? With honor came the pain. Conner ground his teeth. He had a weapon, why shouldn't he fight?

100 yards and closing. Conner took careful aim, drawing his fingers back, catching the invisible string, which glowed blue, knocking an arrow for him. The boy released, causing the bow to launch into the crowd of zombies. One stopped for a moment, before lurching back into action.

Conner barely registered the screams coming from behind him as the survivors were cut down.

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Tabuu was enjoying messing with the angel. "You don't care? When did we become so cold-hearted?" he mocked.

"They'll be free too, soon." Pit said. "Free from you."

"You don't make sense." Tabuu masked his confusion with a spiteful tone.

"You don't make sense." Pit toned back. He knew the killer in front of him was getting tired of games.

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Conner was beginning to tire. Fighting the dead wasn't easy. Or rather, it wasn't possible. It was like fighting a wall. Completely pointless.

And when a large, sharp object was thrust through his throat, he wasn't too surprised. His knees gave out, and Conner collapsed on the blood-spattered ground.

Unfortunately, he was still alive. His fevered brain figured he would either bleed out, or suffocate. Both long and painful.

Conner's fingers twitched, and he felt something cold and smooth roll into his palm. Pit's bow.

His bloodstained lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile. Ending on his own terms.

Conner used the rest of his strength to thrust the sharp end of the bow through his head. He was free.

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Ike's shell walked up to Pit, who grinned. Drawing his sword, Ike lifted it, aimed, and plunged the weapon straight through the angel's chest, then withdrew.

"Free…" Pit whispered.

"_Welcome home, my angel."_

**()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()**

**THERE WILL BE ONE MORE CHAPTER! On another note, I finally finished this one. Took me forever, too. And I killed Conner! Read and review, no flames. **


	9. The World Has Fallen

Yeah, so I had this chapter done ages ago. But there was a stupid 'error' message that kept telling me I couldn't edit my stories, and I didn't want to make an email account just to tell people I had an error. Sorry about the delay.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Nintendo.**

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Tabuu grinned beneath his mask. The world was his! After the angel had fallen, he'd left the corpse lying, broken and still bleeding, sprawled out on the sandy landscape. The villain hadn't even bothered to enslave the body. Heck, if the angel believed he'd be free, why not?

The little gaggle of survivors hadn't lasted more than five minutes. Tabuu had surveyed the city with a cold stare that wasn't necessary, due to the fact that everyone was dead, and he was wearing a mask, anyway.

After he'd surveyed the zombies' handiwork, he'd strayed out into the desert. The Grand Canyon, a former tourist destination, was fairly close by. With nothing else to do and all the time in the world, Tabuu went to see it.

He stood, staring out over the large expanse of rock. There was really nothing remarkable about it. The Grand Canyon did, however, make him feel powerful. Not that Tabuu didn't know it already, but actually made him feel even more powerful than before. Larger than life.

Tabuu began to laugh. He laughed, softly at first, then louder, and louder, until it was a full out howl of unbridled joy. Sick, twisted, joy.

He stood on the edge of the ancient chasm, his head thrown back, body shaking with incredible might of the evil howl emitting from his mouth, barely muffled by the mask.

Rocks began to crumble and fall. All over, avalanches could be heard, a horrifying background to insane laughter.

Tabuu paid no mind as the rock under him split. He ignored the falling sensation; he was oblivious to the dead world.

His body made only the faintest of thuds that echoed through the canyon eerily.

So the world shall fall.

And so the world has fallen.

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**That ending wasn't nearly as dramatic as I thought it would be. The last chapter seemed really awkward. Either way, story number three complete! And now for some self-advertising: I should have a few oneshots coming soon, so if you like blood and gore, check them out! Read and review, don't flame.**

**~{Shadow}~**


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